


Honey, I’m Good

by Astronomical_Aphrodite



Series: Everything Stays [2]
Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Fluff, Lovers to Friends, M/M, Male-Female Friendship, breaking up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-12
Updated: 2020-03-12
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:28:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23113960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Astronomical_Aphrodite/pseuds/Astronomical_Aphrodite
Summary: Mary wasn’t good for Arthur — he knew it, and yet he kept coming back for her.They’re at a theatre hall, but when she asks him to run away, he knows he can’t.
Relationships: Abigail Roberts Marston/John Marston, John Marston & Arthur Morgan, Mary Gillis Linton & Arthur Morgan, Mary Gillis Linton/Arthur Morgan (past)
Series: Everything Stays [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1643872
Kudos: 24





	Honey, I’m Good

His time at the theater with Mary had been enjoyable — it was the lightest he’d felt since before Blackwater, when people had started dying, and hell, it was the most relaxed he’d been in even longer. He had felt like a teenager again, giggling with her at the silly acts and performances, but eventually the show reached its conclusion, and the sunlight outside brought him back to the harsh reality they faced.

It had been easy, keeping it platonic like they were friends instead of former lovers, but he could feel something in the air, the buildup to whatever their relationship culminated in, and he knew that one way or another, their games of tug and war would end before she would manage to get on that trolley.

“Oh, is it too late for us, Arthur?” Mary sighed as she laid a gentle hand on his shoulder, and he could feel his stomach twisting into nervous knots, a lump forming in his throat that made it hard to swallow. She looked at him with that pleading gaze of hers, posture uncertain, and the tension between them could have suffocating him.

Once, it would have elated him, but instead, he simply felt dread. “I’m a wanted man, Mary,” Arthur said nervously, because he feared for her safety, sure, but there was another reason, a festering wound that would heal fine if he resisted the urge to touch it. He was afraid, because he loved Mary, he really did, but something about the thought of falling for her again repulsed him. “Wasn’t that the reason we parted ways in the first place?”

“My father was the reason,” she answered, stepping forwards as her hands reached forwards to grab his, their fingers lacing together, “not me. I allowed him to make that decision for me, and I regret that choice every day.” Giving his hands a gentle squeeze, she smiled softly up at him, expression tender and loving. It never failed to make him melt, but it was different somehow, desperation in her gaze. “You’re a good man, Arthur,” she said, “perhaps the best man I’ve ever met, and I’m asking you to run away with me.”

There was a part of Arthur that wanted nothing more than that. She’d been the love of his life for the better part of a decade, from the moment he met her when he was twenty-one up until the moment she said she couldn’t marry him, and even beyond that, if he was honest with himself. With Eliza, he’d _known_ they shouldn’t have been together, and he’d kept away from her to keep her and their son safe, lot of good _that_ did them. But with Mary, there had been a strong pull, an urge to be close to her even when she broke his heart, and he ran the risk of putting her in the path of his enemies.

Another part of Arthur, something quiet and insidious that had grown during the events that followed Blackwater, knew that if he ran away with her, he’d end up regretting it, because he always did. Mary was dangerous, a woman who clung to the ideals of society and wanted nothing more than to earn its approval, even if that meant she ignored her heart. She said she’d regretted leaving him, but it wasn’t truly him that she missed — the man she missed would surrender everything he was in order to make her love him. Mary couldn’t be happy with him unless he fundamentally changed who he was.

“Mary, you know I care about you,” Arthur said cautiously.

She nodded, brow furrowing. “I care about you too, Arthur,” Mary said, which only made it harder to find the words he needed to say. She looked up at him like she was certain he would accept her offer, but Arthur couldn’t.

Arthur supposed he better break her heart quickly. “And it’s because I care about you that I can’t,” he said simply, apologetic even though he wasn’t obligated to her. Mary’s expression fell, mouth opening even though no words came out. As her brows furrowed, her nose scrunched up in that cute way it did when she was confused. “Even being seen with me is too dangerous,” he continued, “especially nowadays.”

Mary was used to getting her way, having grown up rich in a respectable household where others tended to fall over themselves to please her, so she couldn’t have predicted that. He’d fallen all over himself trying to make her happy, too, although he knew that wasn’t possible for a man like him. “But you could leave the life of an outlaw _behind_ you,” she stubbornly insisted, “settle down, have a family and a life of your own...”

Arthur felt repulsion build up in his throat. He couldn’t imagine leaving behind anyone, if he was being honest, besides the obvious Micah and Bill, and perhaps Strauss. She talked about him getting a family, but she’d never realized that he already had one. “I wish that I could be the kind of man who could make you happy just being who I am,” Arthur said gently, letting go of her hand, “but I’ve got people to protect, things to do, places to be. I ain’t ever gonna’ change, Mary, but I wish you the best all the same.”

Staring at him, Mary looked at him analytically, but although he was afraid she’d slap him or yell at him in the middle of the bustling street, she surprised him when she laughed breathlessly, shaking her head. “Oh, Arthur,” she sighed, digging inside of her satchel, “the end for us came a long time ago, even if I hoped it hadn’t. It’s about time I gave this back to you.”

Pulling out a golden ring, plain but obviously taken care of even though it had been nearly six years since they’d broken it off, she offered it to him and Arthur dumbly held out his hand to accept it. A weight was lifted off his shoulders just as his heart was weighed down, because he loved Mary, and he still did. “I still care about you,” Arthur hurried to explain, “and if you ever need anything at all, just send a letter, and I’ll do my damndest to help.”

“You’ve always been too sweet,” Mary murmured. They stood in the street, and the tension that had always been there whenever they were together had disappeared. Their separation was official, the end of their relationship had been reached, and it felt better than he thought it would feel. “I better catch my trolley,” she said, leaning forwards, “but we’ll see each other again someday, I know it.”

“We will,” Arthur assured her. Embracing her tightly, she gave him a peck on the cheek as she pulled back, smiling at him fondly while walking away towards where her trolley was stopped. Arthur slipped the ring into his bag. “Farewell, Miss Linton,” he called, waving at her when she put a foot on the step.

“Til’ we meet again, Mister Morgan,” she returned, climbing up the steps and entering the vehicle.

When it passed him, they waved. Arthur imagined he wouldn’t live long enough to see her again, but hoping was harmless, especially when he could picture a future where everyone got along and they didn’t have to run anymore.

Clambering onto his white mare where she was hitched in front of the saloon, he urged Bathory into an easy trot, heading towards the road that would take him towards Clemens Point. There was sadness, of course, because he would miss her, but he had known before that their relationship would inevitably come to an end. Arthur supposed she was free to find someone else, now that her husband was dead and they’d officially separated.

“Who’s there?” Shouted Bill when he arrived back at camp.

“Arthur, you dumbass,” Arthur yelled, and Bill scoffed.

Dismounting the Arabian in the grazing pasture, he brushed her down, cleaning the dirt and grime from her coat as he murmured praise to her. Bathory whinnied at Arthur softly, and Rhiannon trotted towards him from where she’d been eating next to the other horses to say hello to him as well.

Arthur fed them sugar cubes and patted their necks, and when he inevitably sat down in the grass, the two mares laid down next to him. He absentmindedly redid one of Rhiannon’s braids, weaving the brown hairs that had come undone into something resembling the professional job they did at the stable. He supposed that they would need redone again soon, but he’d save his pocket the trouble in the meantime.

“Hey, Arthur,” someone croaked behind him, and he knew without looking that it was John. Twisting around, he saw him walking up with his hat held next to him, his other hand shading his eyes from the overbearing sun. “What’ve ya’ been doing? You’ve out of camp for awhile, now, staying out longer and longer.”

“And what’ve you been doin’?” Arthur asked, although his words didn’t have any bite. He didn’t have the energy to be bitter about the hypocrisy behind the accusation, so instead, he patted the moist grass as an invitation for him to sit down. Company was something he needed. “Absolute horse-shit, that’s what.”

John chuckled, settling down next to him and crossing his legs underneath himself. “Now, that ain’t nice,” he drawled hoarsely, clearly amused. Leaning forwards, he scratched behind Rhiannon’s ear, and the horse leaned into his gentle touch. “But I wasn’t kidding when I asked why you’ve been out so often as of late,” John continued wryly, “just because I’m curious.”

“Saw Mary,” Arthur said simply, “and we broke it off. Permanently.”

That made him loose his easy smile. “ _Shit,_ Arthur,” John said, reaching out to grab his shoulder comfortingly. A frown curling his lips, Arthur couldn’t stand the look of pity he was giving him. “You doin’ okay?”

“Honestly?” Arthur said, looking at John. “Yeah.”

Digging inside of his satchel, he pulled out the ring. It glimmered golden in the light, a familiar weight in his hand, and he remembered when he first gave it to Mary and asked her to marry him. Best day of his life it had been when she said yes, besides the day Isaac was born. Nothing could surpass that. Now, he remembered it with wistful fondness, but there wasn’t that heaviness to it anymore. He’d started to move on, after years of hopeless pining.

“You take this,” Arthur instructed him, grabbing John’s hand and shoving it into his palm, “and you go and marry Abigail, alright? That girl deserves a ring on her finger and a good, stable home.”

“Arthur,” John said dumbly.

He stood, clapping John on the back. “That boy of yours, Jack, and Abigail,” Arthur said, “you better treasure them.”

“Alright,” John breathed, “okay, uh, yeah. I will.”

Arthur stretched, popping his back. Yawning, he decided that it would be nice to take a midday nap. “See ya’, John,” he called back lazily, and he felt a vicious sort of pleasure when John didn’t reply.

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer — I love Mary Linton. I just think they’re better friends than lovers, considering how different they are, personality wise.
> 
> Also, Arthur being best man at John’s wedding after all but forcing him to tie the knot with Abigail? Swanson officiating? Mary-Beth and Tilly and the other girls dressing up while Ms Grimshaw forces the boys to _bathe_ for once? Sign me up.


End file.
